Chapter 50
ALEX
She’s in my spare room, sleeping in one of my beds.
Despite the monotony of the task, tonight was fun. We laughed and joked. She told me about her family, although she dodged questions about why she’s chosen to be so far away. I’m beginning to wonder whether it’s not her family she’s running from but something else. A bad breakup, maybe?
I sit and stare out over the New York skyline, sleep evading me. I’m too aware of the woman upstairs and how she felt pressed against me. I should have turned down her offer of help tonight, but I found myself wanting to see her, especially when she told me she was embarrassed by what had happened.
There’s a noise behind me, and I turn to find Brooke descending the stairs.
“Is everything all right?”
She jumps. Her hand flies to her chest, and it’s only then I realise she’s wearing next to nothing. a simple camisole-and-shorts set.
“Shit, Alex, you scared the crap out of me.” Her voice is breathless.
I chuckle. “Eloquent,” I say.
“What do you expect? You’re sitting here in the dark. I wasn’t expecting you… I came to get a bottle of water.”
Her words come out in a rush, her arms crossing over her chest as if she’s only just become aware of how little she’s wearing.
“Help yourself,” I say. “You know where they are?”
“Thank you, I do.”
I watch as she makes her way into the kitchen. Her outfit leaves little to the imagination. I close my eyes and swallow the groan that threatens. I haven’t been this turned on by a woman in a long time. Why does it have to be someone I can’t have?
I hear the door to the fridge open and close.
“Night, then,” she says, reappearing.
“Do you want a nightcap before you go?”
She pauses.
“Why not,” she says, making her way over to where I’m sitting. Grabbing the throw from the back of one of the sofas, she wraps it around herself.
“Scotch, wine, or something else?”
I get up and move to my drinks cabinet.
“Baileys?”
“One Baileys coming up.”
I pour a glass and add some ice.
I carry it over to her, our fingers touching as she takes the glass.
“Thanks.”
She places the bottle of water she came down for on the table in front of her.
She swirls the drink, then takes a sip.
“I’ve missed this,” she says before her gaze snaps to mine. “That came out wrong,” she says. “I missed it at Christmas. It’s my Christmas go-to.”
“It’s a shame I didn’t know. Mother has a cupboard full of it. It’s her favourite.”
“Christmas with your family was fun,” she says.
My mind returns to the car journey home and to the way her lips felt against mine.
“I’m glad.” I take a sip of my Scotch, although the need for it has gone. My distraction is here, in front of me.
We sit in silence, enjoying our drinks. When Brooke finishes hers, she stands and holds out a hand for my empty glass.
“I’ll take them through to the kitchen.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Maybe not, but I want to.”
I hand her my glass, and she makes her way past me, the throw draped over her shoulders, her long, shapely legs on full display.
I swallow hard as she disappears into the kitchen. Seconds later, she returns and leans down to collect her bottle of water.
“Thank you for the company,” she says.
My breath hitches as she smiles.
“I’d better head upstairs too,” I say, falling into step beside her.
She keeps the throw wrapped around her as we climb the stairs.
It happens in a split second, the throw catches beneath her foot, knocking her off balance. I grab her, pulling her hard against me.
“Shit,” she says, her breath escaping in short pants. She looks up at me and grins. “Fast reflexes, Mr Bianchi.”
I cradle her against my chest, the blanket still tangled around her legs.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” I say, steadying her as I pull the material away from her feet.
We’re close. My body is acutely aware of Brooke, her hands resting against my chest.
I freeze, trapped by her unwavering gaze.
“Brooke.”